Take Our Hands and Lead Us
by DixieGrayson
Summary: After losing Jason so soon after Bruce the Batfamily is left in mourning and the city is left in a dire situation 10-year-Old Dick grayson is handed his big brothers old mask and sent to rescue those who are caught up in the latest situation, but in Damians stressed state he makes a small but grave miscalculation, Leaving young Dick alone and at the mercy of a stranger REVERSE BATS


I remember the day I moved into the manor. The walls were so high that I thought they could hit the clouds on a rainy day, and the floors were so shiny that you could imagine skating across them in the winter. I was so damn impressed that for a split second I nearly forgot why I was placed there. I'd never felt so damn guilty in my little 8-year-old life. I was so impressed by the grandeur of a house that I let my Mums smile escape my memory. Looking back, I can still feel the way water spilled from my eyes just like it did that day, and the resounding 'snap' I used to have on repeat in my memory returns with an echo as loud as ever.

I remember in that moment being taken by the hand. My fingers were wrapped by a fist not hugely bigger than my own, yet it felt so much stronger than my own hand could ever be. I looked up into the sparkling green eyes of its owner and immediately my worries seemed to escape me. He told me his name was Jason. He didn't try and tell me it's all going to be ok, he didn't try and make up some lame excuse about there being a reason for everything. He simply took me to meet the other three occupants of the luxurious hallway, and I was so very grateful for that.

As the months went by I found myself running to Jason's room whenever I was scared, alone or just wanting someone who would understand me. Bruce was always busy, Damian was so far up his own ass that he barely noticed me and Tim – well - Tim never really took to me. He never even learnt my name, simply referring to me as 'replacement'. So, Jason was left alone to help fight away the monsters in my mind, and he did a very good job of it. He was my brother, in every sense of the word.

Which is why standing here now with Damian's too heavy hand resting on my shoulder feels so god-damn wrong. I shed no tears, because there's none left to cry. Losing someone is not a wound that heals, it is simply one you learn to ignore. I did it with my parents and I did it with Bruce. Which is why yesterday, when I was handed that too big mask and told to suit up, I did with my chin held high. Joining my Batman at his side I vowed to make everyone I've lost proud. I vowed to make my brother proud.

Looking up at the shining signal in the sky I whisper to the Brother that can't hear "goodbye" before leaving. Whether it's for him or me is debatable, but in the end it soothes no one. Damian makes up some bull story about it being 'way past Dickies bedtime' before hauling me into his arms. I bid my farewells to those gathered, playing the role of grieving child perfectly (but isn't that all I really am?) By the time we reach our suits Damian has put me down. By the time we reach the Batmobile he's relinquished his hold on me completely.

Neither of us speak a word on our way to the heart of the city, content to sit and stew in our grief. When we arrive at our destination the problem is clear - there has been an explosion in the ICU unit of Gotham General. All emotions have been left in the car as we launch into action. B shouts orders that I follow diligently as he runs off to the Northern quarter of the ward. Reaching the first beds I can see nothing but the grizzly charred remains of victims. Not allowing the time for my stomach to churn I keep pushing forwards. I search every bed for survivors with no such luck, which is strange at this distance away from the blast …With a fearful realisation my heart stops. Batman's calculations were wrong. It was the southern ward at the epicentre of the blast. Which means there is still the potential for another explosive somewhere else, with the most likely candidate being at the North end of the building. As quickly as I can I try to relay my information, but it's too late. I'm pushed back by a burning force, my eyes being blinded with light as a scream tears free from my ragged throat. With no time to think, the Darkness consumes me.


End file.
